Princerella
by Alois21
Summary: A prom. A fairytale. A night to remember. Regulars as matchmaker, Tezuka as the fairy godmother, Sumire as the evil witch, because happy endings don't exist past Sakuno's curfews. Cinderella from the Prince's point of view. RyoSaku TEMP HIATUS


**Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis**

**Warning:**I'd be a total hypocrite if I claim that I do not enjoy inflicting new personalities among the characters. I like to play tricks on them (gets folks to review anyway), and honestly, the new personas would usually either amuse me or tick me off (the latter being more often if I use it on boys). **Anyway, a little heads-up for you readers: Ryoma-sama would be a little bit off character, but don't bite my head off.** The new character is merely Inner Ryoma, and his exterior demeanor remains the same: Cool and Cocky! (says in the same manner as "Cool and Spicy" :D)

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__****A prom. A fairytale. A dance to remember. Fairytales don't always have to revolve around the princess. Cinderella told in the prince's point of view. **

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**Summary: Middle schools **_**don't**_** have **_**proms**_**. Until Seishun Gakuen defied that custom. With this brand new opportunity knocking at their door, will Seigaku's Tennis Club finally be able to hook their Ochibi up with her princess, or will things turn out worse than they already are? **

**Brace yourselves, folks! This story will take you to a fairytale like no other! Regulars as matchmakers, Tezuka as the fairy godmother, and a PMS-ing Ryuzaki Sumire as the evil witch… happily ever after's don't exist past Sakuno's curfew, after all. **

**This is your typical Cinderella story told in the Prince's point of view, minus the whole tortured-damsel-part.**

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**Page One: Consider**

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There was something about her.

There was truly something about the timid beauty that always captivated the Ice Prince. The way her copper orbs would shine brightly in the darkness; her equally copper locks bouncing behind her back as she cheered for them; the way her cheeks would flush with a vibrant red color whilst he teases her; everything. Everything about her draws him in; lures him in like a helpless prey being seduced to his death by a predator. He was helpless under her power, a power she was not aware she had on him. He was just _hopeless_.

_Romantically _hopeless, as the people around him would 'kindly' put it.

The young prince sat at the far north-east corner of the room, away from everyone. His black tuxedo blended perfectly with the dark background, as the lights were dimmed further for a more "romantic" effect. The ball was held in his honor, though he was, obviously, not the one enjoying it. The orchestra did a good job, though, because the sonata that was supposed to emit an innocent aura had several couples making out in some darker areas of the room.

The prince scoffed, rolling his cat-like eyes. He lolled in a much comfortable position, the back of the chair resting on the wall. He lazily placed both of his feet on another chair, while he positioned his Full Metal Alchemist manga to hide his face perfectly. Screw manners and etiquettes; he was damn frustrated. He was almost asleep when he heard the ever annoying giggling sound of the girls who admire him.

Tsk. And he was so close to dreaming.

He growled silently under his manga. He was about to tell them off when he _felt _her. Not heard; not saw; not smelt; _felt_. He _felt _her presence. Unknowingly—almost instinctively—he gently stood up, his golden eyes in desperate search of the girl who's mere presence jolts him awake. His eyes finally landed on her. She was graceful and truly a goddess in her baby blue, off-shoulder gown, her copper hair tied in a half ponytail, with some locks framing her face, and little—almost no—makeup at all. She was timid and blushing every time someone complimented her.

The young prince stood up and carefully walked over to her. Gasps reverberated throughout the room as he finally approached the girl, who appeared to be on the verge of fainting. Her usually ashen face was now a beautiful shade of beet red. Her entire body was trembling, just as the prince offered her one of his trademark smirks. The spotlight was on them by the time he stood in front of her.

"My princess" he said in a gentle, yet somewhat mocking, tone.

"P-P-Prince" she stammered, unsure of what to say. The king made his way over the stage, and seized the microphone. He flicked his fingers at the conductor. The latter immediately understood, and the orchestra began playing an innocent and slow hymn: Canon by Johann Pachelbel.

"Uh…well, what's this?" the king stammered, clearing his throat. "Alright, uh, kindly evacuate the dance floor, ladies and gentlemen, to give way for the honoree of this ball, Prince Ryoma Echizen, and his chosen woman, Princess Sakuno Ryuzaki of Seishun Kindom" cheers erupted in the room as the other dancers returned to their seats, to allow the couple to dance freely.

"T-This is e-e-embarrassing…" Sakuno mumbled shyly, her head dipped low "I-I'm not e-even s-sure C-C-Canon is arranged for t-the o-o-orchestra" she whispered the last part so softly, the prince could barely hear her. Ryoma rolled his orbs. He gently took one of Sakuno's arms in his, while his other one snaked around her waste. When her free arm made no sign of movement, the prince rolled his eyes once more, as he guided it around his neck. She blushed further, but did not resist.

Slowly and in synchrony, their feet began to move to the rhythm of the song. Ryoma scoffed when he noticed that the princess was intently staring at their feet. He retrieved his hand from her waist and gingerly placed it under her chin. He tenderly forced her head up. Once his golden eyes met her copper ones, he smiled shyly. She returned the gesture, along with a deep blush.

"R-Ryoma-kun…I…I…" she stuttered badly. Her mind doesn't seem to function very well whenever they were close, let alone this much proximity.

"Sshhh" Ryoma said, placing his forehead on hers. She blushed further, and the boy swore she might faint any minute now because of too much blood on her face. "C'mon Sakuno, it isn't everyday that we are blessed with this chance" he smiled gingerly.

"Ryoma-kun…" she breathed. "I…I…I l-l-love you" Ryoma smirked as he inched closer. Their eyes fluttered close.

"I love you too" and he closed the distance between their lips.

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"GAH!" Ryoma Echizen sat up, awoke, with a jolt. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, as his entity trembled in what he deduced as fear. His head throbbed a lot, and he feels as though the world was spinning before his eyes. He growled as his body registered the pain. Falling back on his bed, he covered his face with his pillow. He heard a loud 'meow' from his side, followed by the subtle rubbing of a furry body against his arm. "D-D-Dream…horrible…" Ryoma managed to squeak, despite his shattered demeanor.

"Meoooow" Karupin drawled, clearly displeased by the disturbance. Ryoma growled and tossed to the side. He saw his alarm clock: 7:30. School starts at 7.

Shoot.

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Classes passed before his hazel orbs like a blur. His mind did not seem to comprehend anything at all, and it was repulsing. There were examinations next week, and he needs to suck in every single information he could during that short period of time. However, despite all his conscience's commands, his mind could not seem to comply. He was in cloud nine. Detention didn't help either.

_Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream. Just a dream. Dream. Dream. Hey, does that mean she's my dream gi—ugh!_

Thoughts like that plagued his mind the whole time.

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_Of course it's just a dream_.

He sighed, stowing away the distorted copy of Grimm's Fairytales in a deep part of his bag. He placed notebooks and other books above it to completely obscure the wretched book from human sight. He tipped his cap lower, effectively masking his bright, golden orbs. He reached out for the can of Fanta that laid beside his belongings, opened it, and quickly chugged down the grape-flavored liquor.

"Hell no" he stated firmly, heaving his weighty bag, and slinging it over his shoulder. He pocketed the tennis ball with one hand, while he shoved his other hand in the opposite pouch of his shorts. The brows of his companion met in utter disappointment at his blatant answer.

"Why not? I mean, it's a good experience, right? C'mon, dude! How many middle schools are blessed with an early prom?" the older guy tried to convince him, though his attempts were obviously futile. He ruffled his black hair in frustration when the younger lad beside him showed no sign of giving in to his requests. Annoyed, he tried his last trump card, praying to the heavens above that his attempt be not in vain. "Please, Ochibi? I mean, how bad can it be? Like I said: not many middle schools are given this chance" he repeated, preparing the mood for his revelation.

"That's the point, Momo-sempai," his companion breathed in deeply, trying to get his intention into Momoshiro Takeshi's thick skull. "Middle schools _don't _have _proms_" he deadpanned, his golden orbs glinting in exasperation when Momo only rolled his gentle brown eyes in response.

"Nuh-uh!" Momo crossed his arms. "Look at Seigaku. We have a prom! You're pretty lucky to join this school, ya know?" he continued, rambling things about things that were incoherent to the ears of the tennis prince. They continued to walk, all the while their minds in different places (Momo: "I bet the girls are going to fawn over you man! Seriously! I mean, they wear all those tight outfits that hug their curves and blah, blah, blah…). Echizen rolled his eyes, fully aware that his sempai was _not _going to shut up until he gives in.

Like hell would he succumb.

Ryoma was about to pivot when he heard _her _name. "Ryuzaki…I heard she's so keen about this" Momo said, a boyish grin gracing his lips. Finally, he revealed his trump card…and he seemed successful. Ryoma froze on his spot. He slowly looked up, tilting his blue cap to the side to give his sempai a good view of his amused orbs. A challenging smirk tugged on the corner of the Prince's lips as he spoke, his voice raspy with incredulity.

"Oh really, then? Ryuzaki knows better than to join some stupid prom" he muttered, the smirk growing wider by the second.

"Che, says you, Ochibi" Momo replied, crossing his arms.

"Yeah right. If you're trying to get me to join that stupid prom of yours, you have to try better than—"

"Ryoma-kun!" that _voice_!

_Bloody hell! Bloody hell! Bloody hell! Bloody hell! Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream. Just a dream. Bloody hell! Oh my god, why is she approaching me! Oh crap! This doesn't sound like—bloody hell, she looks good. Aaaaaagh!!!! Momo-sempai you moron! Ryuzaki you idiot! Ryoma you—ah! Ugh!_

There was a painstaking silence that enveloped the trio. Ryoma was staring at Sakuno, who was staring at the floor, who was tauntingly staring back at Momo because no one was staring at him. Momo was irate, knowing he was left out of the story, until the realization dawned him. A goofy grin etched his features, as he coughed awkwardly. Although despite the loudness of his "interference", no head whipped to the side to gaze at him. A wider, toothy grin tugged on his lips.

"Oh will you look at the time? I heard Fuji-tensai was calling me. Buh-bye!" he dashed off. Ryoma rolled his eyes, aware of his sempai's presence all along. Ignoring the older guy was just one of his hobbies. The awkward silence stretched on, tormenting Sakuno with unbearable discomfort. The weight of _his _gaze was unnerving; the still atmosphere that blanketed them was merely for the show. Really, it was unneeded—almost as if it was there to spice up the mood and torture her further. Che. As if his penetrating stare wasn't enough.

Though she wanted to—and no matter how much _effort _it took her—,Sakuno could not look up. Her copper eyes were fixated on the ground, as delicate locks fell to her shoulders. Her entity was trembling in fear as he took her appearance. She was plain. Clad in her usual tennis outfit, white shirt, white skirt, and white rubber shows, she knew that what she was about to ask of him was too much. But really, they were friends, so maybe he would not look past her supposed friendly intention with him, and bombard her with questions and smirks. That humiliation was simply too much. Coming up to him took _guts_. She never knew when he emitted an overwhelming, awkward aura around her, but it was there, nonetheless. His superior atmosphere over others just crept up to her one day, hitting her hard like a 14-wheeler-truck running over her (not that she's ever experience the sort. Hyperbole was just in her language).

This was too much already. One more second of this overbearing awkwardness, and Ryuzaki Sakuno might just faint (or die, most likely). She was fumbling with the hem of her shirt, on the verge of passing out, when his voice pierced the nerve-wracking atmosphere like a sword. Effortless. Tsk; as expected of Echizen Ryoma. "Ryuzaki" that was all. Period. No more words, no more sounds, just _that_. One word, four syllables (though he pronounced it as though it was less), seven letters. It came out quickly from his lips, rolled off his tongue haphazardly, almost as though he was unused to saying it. He said it anyway. At least his attempts to somewhat lighten up the mood (and get his berserk mind to calm down), was not put to naught. The problem though was that he didn't know _what _to _do _next. The bloody girl did not look up.

_Bloody hell_. He wasn't British; heck, his parents didn't even _have _a Western bloodline. But he grew up in America, interacted with kids of all sorts of races, and eventually developed their quirks and dialogues. He remembered a kid of seven—a classmate of his. He loved to say 'bloody hell' whenever the situation was a tid bit out of their stubby hands. Then Ryoma found himself saying it often afterwards. Echizen Nanjiroh was ticked, because the squeaky (though somewhat raspy) voice of his son would echo through the house every time something bad happened. It wasn't like 'bloody hell' was a cuss, or a bad word even. It was just that, Ryoma said it so often, it rang in Nanjiroh's head every time. It didn't get out of his head after that. So he banned his son from saying it again. Ever. It took _years_, but he had his feat. 'Bloody Hell' was out of Nanjiroh's head. _Finally. _

But not out of Ryoma's. And now, the two words was pounding in his head repeatedly like a broken record player. He was distressed, that much was obvious. And the source of it all was standing timidly in front of him, head drooped low to a point where he could not see her beautiful features, and one foot repeatedly making marks on the soil. Ryoma rolled his eyes.

"Ryuzaki, I don't have all day. If you're going to say something, say it now" came his offhanded comment. He did not mean to be gruff, but the tension was murdering him. He saw the girl flinch and immediately regretted his choice of words. But he stood his ground, anyway.

"I-I'm sorry, R-Ryoma-kun." She said. When did she get so shy around him anyway? Didn't they bicker before? Hasn't she cheered on him like there's no tomorrow (or anyone watching, for that matter)? Why was she suddenly so nervous around him now? Oh she knows the answer, alright. She was not dense, as Osakada Tomoka so kindly put it. Her friend waved it in front of her, rubbed it on her (Tomoka: "You like Ryoma-sam", then she would grin cheekily). Sakuno knew as well, but she was too stubborn to admit it out loud. The silence was ephemeral (at last!), for _he_ spoke soon afterwards.

"Whatever" he pivoted, his heel leaving a small mark on the soil. He already took his first step away from her (it was best for both of them. He might end up doing something that would be a little bit too early for the two of them, and the story), when _she _called out, shyly tugging on the fabric of his Regulars jacket. He stopped dead in his tracks, reluctantly craning his neck to the side to stare at her. "What?" he raised a skeptical brow. She gingerly dropped her grip, and her hand fell limply to her side.

"R-Ryoma-kun…uhm…would you be going to t-t-the p-prom?" she mumbled timidly, a rosy color spreading generously on her face. Ryoma's face was amused as he turned around to face her. He clutched the sling of his bag tighter in one hand.

"I won't be" he said. Sakuno's face fell. Of course he wasn't going to come. She already forebode this much; it's just that, the words coming out of his mouth firsthand was what was painful. She looked at the ground (once more), with dejection written on her face. Guilt gnawed Ryoma's senses. "A-Are you going to the prom?" he said uncomfortably. He never stuttered, in fact, he _never_ feels nervous around others. But Wobbly Hips hold a weird power over him.

Upon the sound of his voice, Sakuno's eyes glinted with joviality and hope. She looked up at him and nodded her head, almost too vigorously for her own good. She felt slightly lightheaded as her cerebral fluids continued to stir inside her cranium after the bobbing of her head **(1)**. Quickly recovering from the wooziness, Sakuno rapidly closed and fluttered her eyelids open. She smiled at Ryoma. "Yes" she said giddily with an excited edge to her tone.

The Tennis Prince sighed. He tipped his cap to frame his face in a good angle. A teasing smirk tugged on his lips. "Really?" he probed. Sakuno almost rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Ryoma-kun" she muttered. An amused glint danced in Ryoma's eyes.

"Make a promise, then" he said haughtily, confident that Sakuno would _not _dare defy him. Sakuno rolled her orbs heavenward. She raised one mocking arm (all of her shyness went down the drain), while the other went to her chest, above her heart. She made a small, crossing gesture as she spoke.

"Fine, fine, I promise" she said the last part sincerely. Ryoma's smirk widened. He leaned closer to her, and his breath fanned her right ear.

"Wear a baby blue, off-shoulder gown and I might consider" he smirked further, then left a dumbfounded (and tomato-red) Sakuno behind, as he turned his heel and quickly made a dash for it.

_Holy crap. Mada mada dane, Echizen. _

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**(1) LOL. There's actually another term for cerebral fluid; a more **_**accurate **_**term that goes something like…'cocria' (WTF!? XD)or something like that. Well I forgot. Haha. I wasn't really paying attention to the teacher at that time :3 I was busy daydreaming (no wonder my grades suck. LOL). Anywho, this statement was too scientific for me (: haha. **

**Me: I really enjoyed writing this. I actually set **_**Teenage Rhapsodies **_**aside for this one. haha. I'm sorry to my readers of Rhapsodies, but I didn't want to loose the idea for this one :D I'll try to update Rhapsodies simultaneously with this one. By the way, in case you want an early preview on Rhapsodies, the next chapter will focus more on KaYa and RimaHiko ^_^. AmuTo and KuTau will be prolonged to another chapter. Haha. sorry AmuTo and KuTau fans, but I really need to put more KaYa and RimaHiko on the story. don't worry, Tadase will **_**eventually **_**have someone. it's up to you to guess who :3**

**Momo: Teenage Rhapsodies? Isn't that your Shugo Chara fic?**

**Me: Yes, yes it is.**

**Momo: Wow. Using this fic to give an update to your readers, huh. smart. what if they don't read Prince of Tennis fics?**

**Me: Pssh, at least I tried :D**

**Momo: Hopeless brat.**

**Me: Hey Momo-sempai, want some burgers? My treat!**

**Momo: oh **_**do **_**review ^_^**


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